It’s like you’re strapped in on a ride that’s going entirely too fast. Your head pounds with each jerky motion. Your heart races with each soar and drop. Your stomach clenches at every sharp turn. And out of eyes squinting against the raging wind, you can only faintly make out what’s happening on the track ahead, but you can’t see where it ends… and you certainly can’t control how your body will react to it. It’s insane. The pounding, the racing, the clenching. You don’t have much time between events to feel anything but uncomfortable. Beneath the pounding, and racing, and clenching, you’re just nauseated and tired.

You get this idea that you’d like to get off the ride, even if just for a few minutes. Just to take a breather. But there’s no pit stop. You can’t even see where you got on the damned thing to begin with. What lies outside the track is a long fall through the windy abyss. Where that will leave you, you don’t know. But if you tell any of the other passengers that you’re thinking of getting off the ride, they’ll tighten your seat-belt, they’ll get upset and try to convince you that you have to stay on. And for what? It’s the most evil thing to do, to guilt someone into staying on the ride. It’s sinister, and yet no one seems to realize just how sinister it is.

They don’t know what comes after the fall, so they assume that staying on the track is right. They want you to stay on track so that they won’t be riding alone. They assume the track is right, and good, and true. They just assume it because they know of nothing else.

They just assume life, out of ignorance about death.


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